


What I Need (Not What I Want)

by Primarina (PastelBrachypelma)



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Eating, Food, Gen, The Sims 4, Vampire Bites, Vampire!Dan, Vampires, maybe egobang if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 05:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15284727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelBrachypelma/pseuds/Primarina
Summary: He’d been sort of neglecting his needs. Nothing new. He’d neglected his needs while alive, after all. No sense in suddenly taking care of himself now that he was “dead.”





	What I Need (Not What I Want)

Dan was so thirsty.

Ever since he learned that he couldn’t die of thirst from an online forum, he’d been sort of neglecting his needs. Nothing new. He’d neglected his needs while alive, after all. No sense in suddenly taking care of himself now that he was “dead.”

And Dan’s life rarely, if ever, made sense. During his first year at Grumps, he sometimes had to pinch himself to remind himself that all of this was finally a reality.

The one thing he wasn’t really clear on was what to call…this. Afterlife? Pre-death? (That one made him laugh; it sounded like “pre-game,” which only made him think about all the drinking he was doing before…what? He spent too long out in the sun, or…?)

He wasn’t entirely sure that saving him, if that was what you could call it, had been the best option. He’d been turned after crashing a rental car back in New Jersey after visiting his sister one night. The vampire that had turned him was part of a paramedic squad, and so beautiful and just…glowing, that Dan hadn’t been really paying too much attention. He was alive, after dying, apparently. Or almost dying. 

Anyway.

She was kind. Her name was Francine. She told him the complete transformation would take about three days, that he’d feel normal for a while, just feel weirder around garlic, nauseous after eating.

He told Debbie, and then ate what would, essentially, be his last human meal.

(He learned later after dealing with horrible stomach cramps and throwing up after a party a week later that he had a vampiric condition called “Withered Stomach,” which basically meant he couldn’t digest human food at all, unlike some vampires who could, at least, digest it in small quantities. Just his luck, apparently.)

But all that led up to now. He was still working on telling all the necessary people. He’d told Brent and Brian right away, as they needed to know for tours. He’d told Arin, who hugged him, crying, saying over and over he was just glad Dan was alive after Dan apologized for telling him in such a clunky way. (He was skirting around eating as Arin was pushing him, and had half-snapped at Arin that he couldn’t.) Suzy now knew by proxy, and thought it was the coolest thing.

He was still working on the others. 

Dan had never once fed from a human. Mostly because his attempts at trying failed. Fetishists, even, would decline politely. (It had to do with his teeth; he was bitten by a “cobra,” a vampire with two sets of fangs. Just his luck; he made up a whole 2% of vampire population, and, due to that rarity, most people were afraid of him.) He’d even once gotten the response of: “Ew! Keep those fangs away from me!” as if he’d been brandishing them and hissing, when in fact, he’d just been weak.

Luckily, the Internet was rife with alternative solutions, and he’d found a few that worked for him. Plasmecide came in what looked like a Capri Sun pouch and held 200mL of pure plasma from willing donors. (Apparently, that was vegan, according to some people. Who knew?) One pouch helped stave off the dryness in this throat that always accompanied thirst, but unless he drank three pouches, he’d still be looking twice at every neck, salivating every time he had to watch someone swallow.

He’d forgotten to order more Plasmecide. The problem with blood is that it expired after a time, especially if it was meant to be drank. He’d just forgotten to order another pack. (They came in packs of twenty, which could go quickly when he was doing lots of physical activity.)

He hadn’t even realized Arin had been speaking to him until he smelled it.

Blood.

“Dan?”

Arin’s voice was coming from a long way off. Dan could feel the predator in him rising to the front of his mind, zeroing in on the padded bandage Arin was holding around his finger. He could see the splotches of blood as it soaked into the cloth.

Dan’s empty stomach gave a creaking gurgle, and he shivered, suddenly cold.

“Danny?”

At the affectionate nickname and the corresponding worried tone, Dan snapped back into reality, finding that he’d somehow slumped against the back of his chair, and Arin was looking at him with a concerned expression, his brow creased like he had to take a shit.

“Sorry,” Dan said quickly, giving himself a mental shake and giving a batch of his curls a firm tug to bring him back to reality. The room’s noise, such as it was, seemed to come back in a rush; he was aware of Matt vaping, Vernon chatting, Brent loudly tapping at his laptop. “What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you’d mind playing today,” Arin repeated, his voice still wavering with uncertainty. “I sliced my finger pretty bad trying to fix a shadowbox for Suzy.”

“Shit,” Dan breathed. He could imagine all too well what that looked like, which wasn’t exactly the smartest idea. He could feel the dual tips of his fangs click together as they extended. (When he was thirsty, his fangs were as bad as Excaliber when it came to no reason boners. He was considering writing a song about it.) “Are you okay?” he asked after far too long had passed.

“Yeah,” Arin huffed a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, which made Dan want to hug him. (Not unlike all those videos he did showcasing his art, where he talked so poorly of his accomplishments.) “It just hurts, y’know? I’m supposed to keep pressure on it.” He lowered his voice. “I’m sorry. I forgot that it might be…distracting, under the circumstances.”

Dan nodded, swallowing nervously. “It’s fine, man. Don’t worry about it. I can play.” Except he was going to be trapped with Arin for seven hours in an enclosed space with no windows, while Arin was bleeding, and he was suddenly the hungriest he’d been all week. 

Thirstiest. Whatever. It was all still going to his stomach either way.

“Dan? You’re shivering,” Arin fussed. “Do you need me to get a blanket, or would you rather just go home?”

Dan opened his mouth and a strangled hiss came out. He sputtered, mortified, and quickly clamped his hands over his lips. He knew what hissing meant, and it was never good for pretending to be human.

He wanted to sob looking at Arin’s wounded face, and he fully expected to be told to go home in an uber.

As frustrated tears took over, Dan let one hand drop to the chair. Arin grabbed him, the warmth of the human making him audibly gasp; it was like touching an open flame. 

The younger man pulled him into his office and all but slammed the door, letting Dan go as he fished in his desk for a bandage. As Arin wrapped up his wound, Dan watched, trembling in the chill of the AC. Even in the height of a California summer, he was wearing jeans and a warm sweatshirt, cold as ice without food to warm him.

Without blood.

Arin rose from his chair and crossed the room. Dan hissed, baring his fangs, eyes glowing dangerously, until Arin took a step away. The smell of blood still lingered, but it wasn’t fresh, masked well by hydrogen peroxide and cotton. 

“Dan?” Arin asked.

“I’m…” Dan could barely even talk, with his fangs in the way. He pressed his thumbs into the roof of his mouth, against where his wisdom teeth had been, hoping at least one set would retract for a minute so he could talk. The pressure worked, and Dan removed his fingers from his mouth and tried again. “I’m sorry. I forgot to order more Plasmecide…”

“Plasmecide?” Arin asked.  
Dan nodded, shrinking into his sweatshirt a little, due to the cold and to his growing weakness. “It’s…vegan blood? I guess? Little pouches…I use them to feed.”

Arin nodded, resting a cautious hand on Dan’s bicep. The vampire sighed deeply, tilting forward towards Arin’s warmth.

“I’m sorry I hissed,” Dan looked away. That was the worst part. He’d become an animal, starving and cornered and unable to think rationally. His throat burned, and his stomach clenched up tightly. The sudden pain made him wince, and the familiar burn of his fangs retracting caused him to let out a soft cry of surprise.

“Dan,” Arin had both hands on his biceps now. Probably supporting him, Dan thought. He felt as though he could pass out any moment. “How long has it been since you fed?”

It was a perfectly reasonable question, except Dan couldn’t remember. Thirst-ridden days tended to blend together a bit. He tried to concentrate, work through the headache. The weakness was getting worse; he hadn’t felt like this since he’d first been turned, when he had no access to Plasmecide and human food just wouldn’t cut it. “I…probably not since, ummm…Danny Don’t You Know?” His knees began to tremble. “Arin…”

But Arin was frowning, in equal parts worry and anger. “Jesus Christ, Danny,” he murmured. “That’s…that’s like…a month!”

“Arin, I’m going to fall!” Dan warned shrilly. 

“Oh!” Arin clumsily led Dan over to the couch, setting him down gently. Dan fell in on himself like a ragdoll, clutching at the front of his tee shirt as his stomach moaned.

“Christ,” Arin said with some measure of horror, watching Dan stupidly. “You’re…fuck, what can I do?”

Dan shrugged helplessly. “I ordered more this morning. It should come in a few days.”

“You look like you won’t last that long,” Arin pointed out somberly.

Dan’s lips upturned in a smirk. “I can’t die from thirst. I’ll just be spacey and feel like shit.” He sighed shakily. “And cold,” he added. “That’s the worst of it, honestly. I hate being cold.”

“I know,” Arin soothed, sitting beside him, radiating warmth. He leaned back, pulling Dan in closer. “Here. Warm up.”

“Two bros, cuddling in a dark room,” Dan sighed weakly, but, after a moment, curled in towards Arin. He could feel his friend’s blood, could smell how full of nutrients it was. God, he was malnourished. He knew it, too. Vampires who only drank Plasmecide or other substitutes had to take iron supplements. Nothing would ever be as good for him as the real thing. 

Dan parted his lips, inches from Arin’s collarbone, letting his eyes flutter closed. 

He had never tasted blood like this. God, what would that feel like? 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been full,” Dan said dreamily, his voice far off. “I can drink twenty Plasmecide packets in a week.”

Arin tilted his neck, swallowing. “Is that a lot?”

“No.” Dan closed his mouth with an audible click, curling up as his belly began to vocalize. It didn’t sound like a human stomach, not when he was this badly off. It sounded like the whirr of a broken machine, the soft whine of a stalling engine. Or a reasonable facsimile. 

Arin shifted and Dan sat up, curling his knees under him. “That was your stomach, huh?”

Dan nodded. If he wasn’t so ill with want, he would have blushed. “I should go. I can’t…I’m too hungry…”

Arin’s hand closed over his wrist, and Dan, hungry for warmth, didn’t move like he’d wanted to. This was dangerous now, and he knew it. He had never lost control, never dared to test his limits while loved ones were around. 

He didn’t want to attack Arin and ruin their friendship. Yet, here he was, glued to the spot.

“Please stay,” Arin soothed, his thumb running circles over the back of Dan’s hand. “You’ll get hurt if you leave like this.”

Dan laughed hollowly. “Don’t you mean I’ll hurt someone else?”

“No.” Arin said with a ringing finality. It made Dan look him in the eye, watch the determination flood through him. “You’d go out and stand in the hot California sun and burn away before you hurt one of us.” Something about his tone said, “You know that,” and Dan had to agree.

They were all too important to risk.

“Danny,” Arin said, reaching up to cup Dan’s cheek in his palm. It was stupidly intimate, but Dan didn’t care, nuzzled into Arin’s palm like an affectionate cat. “Danny, how many packets of Plasmecide do you need to eat to feel full?”

“Three,” Dan sighed.

“And those come in the little pouches, right?”

Dan nodded, not sure where Arin was going with this.

“How do you feel, Dan?”

Dan closed his eyes. “Hungry. Starving. Cold. I can’t do anything. Even answering an email takes everything I’ve got.”

“I’m sorry,” Arin said, his voice low. “That sounds like hell.” He was drawing Dan closer, almost into his lap. And Dan was following, like a puppy being walked for the first time.

Dan’s teeth began to ache. He could feel Arin’s heart rate increasing, smell the blood under his skin. Arin was sweaty, but he had never smelled more delicious. “Arin,” he said weakly, trying to push away. “Arin, please, I need to use the packs, I…”

“Shh,” Arin shifted, forcing Dan to curl into his side, holding him in place. As weak as he was, Dan couldn’t wriggle away. “Open your mouth for me?” He asked, innocent as anything.

Dan did, just slightly, now even more unsure about Arin’s goal here.

“Your fangs,” Arin said, “they’re sharp, right? They can pierce skin?”

Dan nodded.

“The neck is…when things go wrong, isn’t it?” Arin’s heart beat faster under his ear. “Even if I coaxed you, you wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”

Dan nodded again. “The neck is risky. Too many important veins.” He paused, tilting his head up. “Arin…this isn’t the time to be a sadist. I’m tired. I need to go home.”

Arin chuckled gently. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” Dan shivered, a tingling warmth flowing up his spine. Arin pulled him closer. “Open your mouth for me, Danny.”

Dan did so. This time, Arin pressed the pad of his thumb against Dan’s fang. Dan could feel the blood inside it, and drool began to collect around his tongue.

Arin slid his thumb onto the tip of Dan’s fang. Blood rushed out, into Dan’s mouth. Hungrily, Dan lapped at it, both hands clasping Arin’s wrist as he cupped his lips around the cut and sucked. Too soon, Arin’s thumb became pruney, and Dan let it go with a whine, his lips rouged red with blood, his thirst barely quieted.

Arin offered his wrist. “This is my drawing hand,” he warned playfully. 

Dan kissed Arin’s hand, taking his forearm delicately between his fingers, feeling for a good vein to sink his teeth into. “I’ll be careful,” he promised. “You won’t feel this one…I promise.” He opened his mouth over the vein. “I have some, um…clotting. Saliva. Venom. Something.”

Arin petted Dan’s head. “Just fucking bite me, dude.”

Dan bit down.

It was so, so satisfying. Better than the thumb had been. Blood was flooding into his mouth, pooling on his tongue, and he just continued to drink, swallowing and suckling, pulling the blood past his teeth. It went down his throat like heavy cream, thick and warm, soothing the arid desert, the soreness he’d felt for so long. 

And he began to feel it in his stomach, too. It felt like food, which was surprising. It felt solid, whole, heavy. It was as addicting as eating had been. His stomach was empty and wanted more, and he was happy to oblige, drunk on the feeling. Real blood, fresh from the human body. And a human who he knew took care of himself. He could feel the results of Arin’s careful weight training, the good food he ate, how he rarely forgot to eat or went hungry, like Dan so often did.

He felt Arin fist the hair at the nape of his neck, and he hissed. No, he wanted more of this. But, he realized, he had taken what he could. So he pulled away, carefully, lapping at the wounds to heal them, cleaning the blood off Arin’s arm.

“Better?” Arin smiled. He looked a bit pale, and Dan shifted, helping to support Arin’s weight. 

“Yeah. Thanks.” It didn’t seem like enough to say. Dan licked his lips. He felt…strangely whole. Full. Like he could survive—no, thrive, on this for more than a few days. And he felt eternally grateful to Arin, who had somehow gotten him to drink…

Dan smirked, letting Arin lay his head in his lap, his fingers running through the soft, slightly sweaty, strands.

Arin smiled sleepily. “What?”

“You schmoozed me.”

“Only a little,” Arin admitted with a shrug. “You were out of your mind with starvation. It wasn’t hard.”

“Did Suzy teach you that?”

“Oh, yeah.” Arin yawned. “Said it might come in handy, ‘cause you’re stubborn.”

“Mm,” Dan yawned too, feeling dozy himself. “Go to sleep.”

“No you.” Arin teased. But he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep not long after.

Dan followed after him, but he was still on alert, ready to protect Arin, should the need arise.

Luckily, they were safe and whole here. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> *scratches head*
> 
> I wrote this after playing with a vampire Sim on The Sims 4, so uhhh...there's a few references to that. Like plasma, and the lil plasma juice boxes. (It takes, like, four to make them "full," but I only pay attention bcs I'm me, so.)
> 
> So. This happened. And now I need to sleep. R.I.P.


End file.
